The Agent and An Alpha
by LittleMissDarkside
Summary: BAU arrives at Beacon Hills after a series of murders take place. While working the case, Morgan becomes intrigued by Derek Hale. His curiosity pulls them into a whirlwind of problems, which just might make this case more difficult than it should be. (Part 1 of The Agent and An Alpha series)


Derek was sitting in an interrogation room at the police station. _Again. _He thought that he would only see this place once in his life. Fate just seemed to tip the scale further away from his side. Derek has done some things before, but he had no idea what he was here for this time around. When the officer came to pick him up, they said it was only some minor questioning concerning a new set of cases. The werewolf wanted to snort right into the other man's face. He could tell by his heartbeat skipping twice over the word 'minor' that he was in the middle of another hellish ride.

As he sat to himself, Reid and Morgan were on the other side of the glass, watching their possible unsub swim in his thoughts.

"Do you think he did it?" Spencer asks his colleague. The man shifted his stance and gave a look to the resident genius.

"Pretty Boy," Morgan began, "you know that we can't jump to conclusions. If we do, we may get the wrong murderer." Spencer nodded and smiled. He understood the procedure well, but he couldn't help but feel like this suspect is withholding something. It was like a sixth sense. A profiler always needs to trust instinct.

Spencer replied, "I know, but he seems sketchy." Morgan gave his friend another look. Maybe he was right. Hale came across as broody and emotionless. The thing was that he was not like other unsubs. He knew what was at stake without having to be snatched back into reality. That worried Morgan. It also intrigued him.

"Hotch wants me to do the interrogation," the dark skinned man comments. "Do you think he fits the profile?" Spencer simply shook his head. They had nothing to go on with this one. He was just simply caught in the crossfire. He had put himself in a position of no return. He either needed to admit his part or continue to be hounded.

"I'll be right back," Morgan whispers before he opens the door to the interrogation room. Derek looked up and saw the agent. He immediately looked down. These guys were profilers. He had heard one of the officers whisper it when he was brought into the room. They could most like tell the slightest of details by the way Derek twiddled his thumbs.

"Mr. Hale, we've brought you here to ask you questions about the past four murders here" Morgan says as he sits down. He pulled a pen from his pocket and wrote something on the notepad that he was holding.

"Ask away," the werewolf responded after a beat. Morgan rights it down on his paper and scribbled out some other information. The profiler looked up to see that Hale was staring at him. He nearly quirked an eyebrow, but he decided that was not professional. He had to keep up a front in order to crack Hale.

"Have you been a resident of Beacon Hills your whole life?"

"Yes," Derek responded. "I was raised here until I left. I only just moved back a little over four years ago." Morgan nodded his head. His pen moved in sloppy strokes as he scribbled down Hale's answer. He came up with another question quickly.

"Why did you leave in the first place?" the FBI agent asked. "What made you come back?" Derek's head came up slightly. Should he tell this complete stranger what happened to his pack? He could have figured it out. An officer at the station could have already told him. They always put him on the pedestal of bad news. It was always as if he was automatically the problem. Despite the front this town puts up, they were mostly assholes. What stopped them this time from telling all his secrets?

Derek cleared his throat, "My family whole family was killed in a house fire while I was at school. That only left my sister, my uncle, and me the last living members. My uncle, Peter, was seriously injured." Morgan nodded and jotted down the answer.

"Where could we find your sister?"

"In the Beacon Hills Cemetery." The FBI agent nearly dropped his pen. Derek's sister was dead, too? This was becoming very suspicious. How could this young man's whole family be wiped out in possible arson and murder? Morgan had concluded that it was cases of intended homicide because it all seemed coincidental. A boy's family dies, he leaves. He returns again after his sister dies. This wasn't as simple as it seemed.

Morgan asked, "Well, what about your uncle?" Derek snorted. It was a humorless laugh. Peter was Laura's murderer. He'd know that he would get a priceless look if he told his interrogator about it.

"He stays at an apartment complex in town. He was let out of the hospital when he regained… stability," Derek answers. Morgan noted this and looked at his suspect. The young man was looking at his hands and fidgeting. He seemed uneasy. Morgan's eyebrow arched and spoke to him.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Hale?" The werewolf nodded. Morgan made a gesture with his hands to tell him to speak up.

"What am I really here for?" the Alpha asks. "You're asking rather personal questions if this was for series of homicides." The older man was taken aback. He never took Hale for the smart type. He knows never to judge a book by its cover, but that is basically what a profiler does. They use gestures and speech to figure out what an unsub is like. It was a force of habit.

When Morgan didn't answer back, Derek took that as a win. His interrogator incidentally gave away his motive for the personal questioning away: Derek was a suspect. They had tried so hard to disguise it, but they couldn't keep up the charade. As soon as Derek heard the agent's heart skip a beat, he knew he was lying. The questions only sealed the deal.

"I have a right to know what I'm being charged with," Derek said matter-of-factly. Morgan nodded.

"There have been frequent murders here in Beacon Hills," Morgan responded. "You're not being charged with anything."

Derek snorted, "You're missing a 'yet' at the end of that."

"No, I'm not." Derek looked up at Morgan. He had the most sincere looks ever. The sincerity made Derek want to scream or run away. No one has looked at him like that in a while, if you don't count Isaac. His beta always looked at Derek with care. Derek wanted to snort at the irony because it was always Isaac that treated him like he was fragile. It was never the other way around.

Morgan finally broke Derek's train of thought. Look, Mr. Hale, if you have nothing else to tell us, then we can stop here." The werewolf swallowed and nodded. He got up and shook Morgan's hand. The FBI agent pulled out a card from his pocket and pressed it into Derek's hand. The werewolf's eyebrow lifted slightly.

"Whenever you remember something, feel free to call me," Morgan simply said. Derek hesitated for a split second. Did he want to drag another human being into his mess of a life? The pack was older now and doing other things. They were starting their own lives, and they couldn't be tied down by Derek anymore. If the Alpha was going to be honest with himself, he missed all of them. It hurt to watch them leave, but what kind of leader would he be if he held everyone back?

"Okay," the Alpha simply said. He nodded and left the interrogation room. As he passed through the station, he felt the sharp stares. He heard an offhand comment, but he didn't do a thing about it. He was being watched like a hawk by the deputies. The only one that he saw that wasn't staring in disgust was Sheriff John Stilinski. They had come to a mutual understanding. After realizing that Derek wasn't trying to pursue his son, he started to watch over Derek. The Sheriff was also in a pseudo – relationship with Peter, so he was around frequently.

As Derek walked to his Camaro, someone watched from afar. They had a vengeance that burned deeply in their soul. If looks could kill, their scowl would overthrow entire governments. They wanted to be in power and watch people suffer. It was how it worked. They wanted to destroy others.

No matter what the cost.

* * *

The cell phone rang. A groan sounded from the pillow, and an arm flung out from under the cover. A hand grabbed the phone and hit the talk button as it was pressed to Morgan's ear.

"Hello, Agent Derek Morgan speaking," he grumbled into the mouth piece.

"Agent Morgan, it's good to hear your voice," a deep voice sounded from the other end. Morgan sat up in his bed, confusion etched on his face. Who would call him this early in the morning? The agent looked at the clock and saw that it was at least three in the morning. He felt agitation build up in him and wanted to bark into the other person's ear.

"This better be important," he hissed. "Who the hell is this anyway?"

"It's me, Derek Hale," the other voice identified themselves. Morgan let out a breath.

Derek continued, "I know it's the ass crack of night right now, but I really need to tell you this now. If I had waited later, I wouldn't have the balls to talk about it." This caught Morgan's attention. There was vulnerability in Derek's voice. This wasn't unusual with the unsub, but this was not a lapse of regret. This was pure fear.

"God, what am I doing?" he heard Derek groan. That brought Morgan back to a sense of reality.

"I don't know," he retorts. "What are you doing?" A silence spilled over into both ends. No one knew if they should speak or hang up the phone. It was terrible, and Derek could feel a little part of him hurt inside.

"You know what?" he said. "Meet me at the diner near the Beacon Hills Library tonight at nine. I don't feel safe talking to you over the phone like this." Morgan didn't know what to say to that. He was going to meet with a somewhat stranger, who feared saying whatever it is that made him call at this time of night over the phone. This should have had him on high alert. This should have made him call the team make sure that they're safe. Instead of doing all of that, Morgan just agreed to come by and speak to him.

When they hung up, he couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. That came back and bit him in the ass come the morning. He was surveying something with Garcia and Reid when he started to yawn loudly. When he opened his eyes as wide as his exhaustion allowed, he was met with stares.

"Okay, elephant in the room!" Garcia exclaimed. "What the hell is up with you? You look like the Night of the Living Dead." This was one of the few times Penelope tagged along. The girl has been to Beacon Hills before and knew it like it was her computer screen. She was an excellent guide, effectively dragging him and Spencer to the gay club in town. They got hit on and were bought a few drinks. They danced with some of the people there and had a good time.

Garcia is a mischievous woman.

"Thanks for the compliment, Baby Girl. I really appreciate that," Derek snarked. The woman shook her head and turned back to the computer. Reid was still eyeing Derek like he was trying to profile his colleague.

"Agitation typically stems from a few things, but mostly exhaustion, malnourishment, or impatience," Spencer informed the others. Derek shot him a look that made the younger man shrink back. The genius got his files together and decided to leave the room. He looked at Morgan one last time before the door shut behind him. Penelope glared slightly at Derek, but there was no heat behind it.

"Look at you," she scolded. "You've gone and upset the boy."

"I'm sorry," Morgan apologized instantly. Garcia tisked and waggled her pointer finger.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, my Chocolate God," she corrects. "Is it the case that's eating you, Gilbert Grape?"

Derek responded, "It's more like one of our suspects. He's just… something special. I don't know what it is about him, but I want to learn more." Garcia smirked and tapped away at her keyboard. She looked eager, and her fingers moved at the speed of light. Morgan was afraid that one of her fingers would fall off because of the velocity. A click rang through the room as a bunch of pages popped up on her computer.

"Bingo," she smirked. Morgan saw that all the pages were concerning Derek Hale. There was a picture of him when he was on his third grade honor roll list. Another one was from when his little league baseball team won the West Coast Baseball Championship, and another was a picture from when he was a member on his school's Debate Team. He was dressed impressively and smiling. He looked warm and happy. He had no way of knowing that his smile will be turned down into a permanent frown because of fire.

"Damn," Penelope remarked, "boy had and still has it going on. Look at him. I'd eat that up!" Now that Morgan looked at it, he wasn't half bad. The younger man had a perfect square jaw. His cheekbones were high and the stubble on them was perfect. That leather jacket was doing things to Morgan. When he was interrogating him, he was bare shoulder except for a skin tight, gray Henley. In retrospect, he was ridiculously attractive.

Penelope smirked, "Aw, is my Dark-Skinned God replacing me with this broody stud?" Morgan snapped out of his daydream. He saw the sly smirk on Penelope's face and shook his head. For a profiler, he was readable. Their skills were rubbing off on Penelope. In essence, Penelope was a contact profiler.

"I just have to meet with him at the diner," the agent tells his best friend. "He has some other things to tell me." Garcia squeaked and clapped her hands.

"Awesome! So, I'll be by your hotel room at –"

"Woah, stop right there, Baby Girl," Morgan commanded. "This is not a date. This is an investigation, and Derek feels better if we talk one-on-one."

"Oh, so now we're on first name basis," the hacker teased. Morgan sighed. This girl would just keep digging and finding innuendo or underlying meaning in everything he says. He got out of his seat and walked to the door. Penelope stopped him in his tracks, offering some wisdom.

"You know," she began, "if you do get involved with Mr. Broody, I'd suggest try hooking me up with his uncle. If you can't do that, then be careful." Morgan snorted and walked back to Garcia. He kissed her bright red hair and hugged her. He left her room, taking her pseudo-advice to heart. He might want to be careful with what he's doing. He might be setting himself up for pain.

* * *

Derek sat at his booth. He had ordered himself a cup of coffee and a bagel. He was a little early than the time that him and Agent Morgan had set. He had his reasons, though.

One, he was anxious. He was a possible suspect in numerous murders. He was exonerated from the previous murders, but that would still come back and haunt him. He was still a little pissed at Stiles and Scott, but he couldn't hold that grudge at the time. He had bigger fish to fry, namely those with the last name Argent. He had to make sure that he wasn't still in their crosshairs. He had laid low in New York for a while. When he heard that Laura was killed, he automatically thought it was them. Little did he know was that his own uncle was the murderer. That will be one hell of a story to tell to Morgan.

And number two, he needed time to think. He couldn't get that done with the Sheriff coming by to see Peter. He could basically hear them playing tonsil hockey when he walked out of the apartment. That was beside the point. He wanted time to think about how he turned out. He wanted to know if all of this would be any different if he hadn't come back or if he hadn't had to leave in the first place. What if Kate wasn't his object of affection back then? What if he had sniffed out the bullshit and warned his family of who she was?

Derek still blamed himself for what had happened to his family. He blamed himself for all the trouble he caused his pack, and he would forever blame himself for letting his guard down.

"Is this seat taken?" a deep voice asked. When Derek looked up, he couldn't help the tiny smile. He stood up and shook hands with Morgan.

"Not at all. Take a seat," he offered. They got cozy in their booth before a waiter came to get the agent's order. He ordered the same thing as Derek before he turned to the younger man.

"You had something to tell me," Morgan said. "You might want to start." Derek nodded and took a sip of his coffee. That's when Derek detailed the tumultuous and terrible tale of him and his family.

"I'm going to tell you this in total confidence," he warned. "If you don't believe me when I start to tell you, you might as well leave while you have a head start." Morgan took this into consideration. What's so terrible about Derek's story that he wouldn't be able to believe it? Yeah, the fact that his family was murdered except for one was exceptionally unbelievable, but he has forensic evidence. Forensic evidence can't lie like a witness can.

Morgan finally answered, "You have my word."

"Okay, it starts when I turned sixteen. I had met this woman named Kate Argent. She was at least five or six years my senior, and we started this affair behind my parents' backs. It was risky, but I didn't care. I was just some naïve, hormonal teen back then," he begins.

Derek continued, "We were together for a while when it all went down. I was in class. My Debate coach, Mrs. Briggs, came in to retrieve me. She had my sister. Laura and I were on the team together, and we treated Mrs. Briggs like she was family. When we got to the office, we saw Sheriff Stilinski. He was fidgeting, and he looked so distressed. We knew something was wrong, but we didn't know what." Morgan wiped a tear from his cheek. He knew what was going to happen next without Derek continuing, but he wanted to hear this. He wanted to see the emotion that Derek possessed. In that interrogation room two days earlier, he was broody and frigid. Now, he was emotional and remorseful. He was not a suspect or the unsub. He had too much of a conscience to do what the murderer did to the victims.

"He looked at me with tears in his eyes. His partner held on tight to me and Laura, and I only realize now why he held us. We needed to be held after the Sheriff told me that my family was burned alive. Women, men, and children were dead. All of them were innocent. I saw many grown men cry that day," Derek cried.

"Turns out Kate had set the fire. She just wanted to get to my family and kill them," he whimpered. "My sister and I left for New York. We had a godparent up there that took care of us until we went to college. When I came down here, I found out my sister was dead. She was murdered."

Derek continued, "About a week later, Kate was killed. That's when shit hit the fan. Hunters from her family came at me and others full force. I felt alone even with all the other people around."

Morgan saw that he was having a panic attack. He was shaking, rubbing his hands together, and crying. He was hyperventilating, and the way he was grabbing at his chest made it seem like he was having heart palpitations. He was sweating and looking scared. Morgan slapped down the money for his meal and the tip and grabbed Derek. He pulled him through the doors. They walked out into the darkness, and Morgan tried his best to pull him to his own car. He sat Derek on the hood of his car and started to whisper calming words.

"Derek," Morgan breathed, "listen carefully to my voice okay? You need to breathe. I want you to take a deep breath in and hold it for as long as you can." He sat down beside the younger man and rubbed his back soothingly. The other man listened and obeyed. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. He kept repeating this process, pushing into the FBI agent's soothing touch as he continued. After a few minutes passed, he was calm. His crying had stopped and he felt better than he did in a while.

"Isn't that touching?" a voice smirked. Both Dereks looked up and saw who said it. An older male with a automatic weapon pointed at them smirked.

"You know, I didn't expect to bring the FBI in this, but what can I say? I've been dealt my cards," - the gun cocks - "all I need to do is play my hand." Derek pushed Morgan over the car's hood as the shots were fired. He was nearly wolfed out, and he was covering the majority of the agent's body with his own.

"Are you crazy? Why are you shielding me?" the older man hissed to the other. Derek turned Morgan over and looked him in the eye. The agent's eyes went wide when he saw the fangs and the red eyes.

"You stay right here," Derek hissed. "If you get up for any reason, Gerard will shoot you." Morgan nodded and watched and Derek jumped up. He stayed low, no matter how much his curiosity told him to take a peek. He was going to listen to Derek and trust him. He seemed to know what was going on.

Morgan didn't fixate on the fact that Derek had red eyes and long canines, but he would later. He had questions of his own. His train of thought was totaled when he heard the blare of sirens. He heard them before he saw the flashing lights of bright color. He stood up slowly, looking for Derek or that stranger. What he saw nearly made him choke on air.

"Derek!" he yelled as he ran to the younger man. He was slumped over, not entirely on the ground, but he looked dazed. The man shook his head and got up slowly. His footing was lost, and he landed in Derek's arms. He clung to him and rested his head on the agent's shoulder. His fists clutched at the man's shirt. He was on the verge passing out when he looked Morgan in the eye.

"You know what I am now," he whispered as best as he could. "Tell me what I am. I want to be sure." Morgan looked at him like he was insane. The crimson tinge to his eyes slowly faded as he started to get weaker. His teeth were going back to normal size, and his breathing was becoming labored. Morgan checked for wounds as he answered the younger man. He felt around until he came across blood coming out Derek's side. He had been shot only once, but he wasn't bleeding like a normal human would. He was only bleeding slowly. This made Morgan take in a breath before he looked Derek in the eye.

Morgan whispered softly as he felt the claws that were no longer digging into his back. "You're a werewolf." The Alpha nodded and smiled as he slipped from consciousness.

"Derek!" Hotch called as he ran over to the pair. He was looking at Morgan as the dark skinned man was checking Derek's pulse. He was alive, but he was unconscious. He was so focused on Derek that he barely registered the medic that came to put him on a stretcher. Another medic checked him out as he looked on. He saw that they were carrying the werewolf to the ambulance. A crowd had gathered outside as the scene unfolded. Spencer, Emily, and JJ ran over to check on him.

"Derek, are you alright?" Emily asked as she looked over him, too. He nodded, his eyes still on the ambulance. JJ watched his line of view and saw what he was staring at. She looked at her colleague and asked him a question.

"What happened with Hale, Derek?"

"He had some things to tell me, and he started to have a panic attack," he began. "I took him out to get him calm without making a scene. The next thing I know is that this man that Derek called Gerard was shooting at us." Everyone stood still. This was all new information to them. Derek had been going behind their backs to work this case on his own and risk his life. They didn't know if they should be angry or thankful.

"Guys," Morgan breathed. "You need to get out to the woods now."

"Why?" they all asked.

"Gerard is the killer," his answered. "He fits the M.O. He attacked us at night, and he used an automatic weapon. He taunted us and still wanted to kill us even though anyone could come out. The victims were killed in plain sight in the darkness."

"That's not much," Spencer responded. "Lots of unsubs do that."

"Not all of them are narcissistic. The others are just dumb enough to pull it off at that time and place." The team stared at their colleague for a second before they ran for the car. The medic promised to watch out for Morgan as they went after their guy.

* * *

_Morgan sat in his hotel room, working on some paper work while packing up. They had caught Gerard and he was going be sent to prison for the rest of his nautral life. There is no telling if they'll ever end up with a case like this again, but they just have to wait and see. He was on his last draw and four pages when he heard the knock at the door. He sighed and walked to open it. He smiled at who was at the door. He couldn't miss that black, leather jacket over that grey Henley for the world_

_"So, you're leaving," Derek said matter-of-factly. Morgan nodded. Derek smiled slightly before he pulled Morgan close. Morgan's hands settled on Derek's face as the other's hands settled on the agent's hips. They looked at each other closely and took in their warmth. Their lips met in a tiny peck, a small spark flying between them. They stared into each other's eyes as they swayed slightly._

_"Goodbye, Agent Morgan," Derek breathed as he pulled away. Morgan felt this part of him sink. He has only known this man for no more than a week, but he had this hold on him. He smiled sadly as he whispered to the other man._

_Morgan responded, "Goodbye, Mr. Hale." No one bothered to question formalities. They would never see each other again if fate had its way. There was no reason to act so familiar with someone that was going to be gone in only a few hours._

_Morgan watched as Derek walked out the door, never to return. No man or woman has ever made Derek Morgan feel that way. He was pining after the Alpha like a teenager. He was usually the being chased or sealing the deal. He was like Casanova with an FBI badge. He was a heartbreaker and a lady's man. This time around, however, he felt like he was losing a part of him. This younger male is someone that has major ties to everything he never believed in that he has found himself falling in love with._

_That was it for Morgan. He was hopelessly in love with someone he couldn't have._

That was about three days ago. Now, Morgan was standing on his doorstep completely taken aback by who was standing with him.

"Derek?" he breathed. He felt his heart rate pick up, and a smile spread across his face.

"Hello, Morgan," the werewolf smiled. He walked forward and accepted a tight hug from the FBI agent. He buried his nose in the crook of Morgan's neck. He found this intoxicating musk there and felt like he was knocked off his feet. His mother had talked about that feeling before when he was a boy.

She said that it was like suffocating. All you knew was that there was this person that you found yourself so in tune with. They made you feel safe, and they gave all this love. The person could be right there in front of you your whole life or could appear out of the blue. Fate had its own way of bringing people together. His mother always told him that's how a mate felt like.

"Why are you here? Don't you have a pack or something?" Morgan asked. He had read up on the mentality of a wolf. The strongest of wolves had a pack of their own. Telling by the way that Derek had handled himself with Gerard, he had one.

"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it, okay?" Derek answered. Morgan squeezed Derek's hand as he looked him in the eye.

"What's the bridge you're crossing now?" he asks with hope in his eyes. His heart skips a beat as he sees the smile that overtakes Derek's face. The Alpha cupped Derek's cheek as he leaned in. Their lips met in a passionate kiss. Tongues rubbed together as lips molded into one another. They almost ignored the cat call from Morgan's next door neighbor. They broke apart to laugh.

Derek chuckled, "Are all your neighbors like that?" Morgan shook his head and smiled.

"How long are you going to be here?" he asked. He sucked in a breath as Derek waited a beat to answer. They had been so caught up in each other that they forgot that they lived on different sides of the country. Derek lived in California, and Morgan stayed in D.C.

"For as long as you'll have me," Derek answered. Morgan let a tear drop as he answered in the best way he could.

"Then you might want to retrieve all your stuff from Beacon Hills," he simply said. "You're going to be here for awhile."


End file.
